


there'll be no trace, that one was once two (after i fade into you)

by elle_you_oh



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Skating, F/M, Philinda 24 Kisses, figure skating AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-07 21:30:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5471444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elle_you_oh/pseuds/elle_you_oh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>ice dancers melinda may and phil coulson been travelling the world together for years, and it’s finally time to head home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	there'll be no trace, that one was once two (after i fade into you)

**Author's Note:**

> this is my entry for the philinda 24 kisses. it is set in my philinda as ice dancers universe which will be published sometime in 2016. title is from fade into you by clare bowen and sam palladio of nashville, and this story is inspired by this [performance](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Neahp-sgW7M)

Melinda closes her eyes as she draws in a deep breath, the cold air of the rink filling her lungs, only exhaling as a familiar hand squeezes her shoulder. Phil is standing behind her, one hand on her hip, the other dropping from her shoulder to lace their fingers together, his chin resting gently upon the top of her head.

 

“After tonight’s show is over, we can go home,” he whispers to her, and she can only smile at the excitement in his tone.

 

As much as they both love travelling around the world, the feel of the ice beneath their blades, telling a story through movements, the roar of the crowd after each performance, Melinda knows that Phil misses their home in New York, as much as they both try to hide it. They’ve been touring on and off since Sochi, living mostly out of their suitcases like a pair of high school graduates taking a year off before college to explore city after city.

 

“Let’s not hold up rehearsals,” she admonishes softly, ducking out of his hold to stand beside him and offering her hand for him to take.

 

Hand in hand, they push off together, gliding slowly on one foot onto center ice, Melinda gently rolling her eyes at the exuberant cheers of their fellow skaters warming up off the ice. The speakers crackle for a moment before the sound of their exhibition music fills the rink, and then they’re off.

 

* * *

 

When rehearsals are through - two individual exhibitions, three group performances, another dozen or so routines that they're not part of, plus the opening and closing numbers, Phil heads off with a couple of the other male skaters - Melinda suspects they’re trying to squeeze in an impromptu hockey match in the thirty minutes before the zamboni comes out to do the ice.

 

She changes back into her everyday wear and packs her things away in the dressing room, before double checking that her costumes are in order. Just one more show tonight and then tomorrow morning they’re on the earliest flight back to New York, back to their rink, and back to their little Skye.

 

Melinda smiles as she thinks of their daughter, their sweet little girl, only two and a half years old, much too young to be away from her parents for so long. The last time they managed to make a pit stop back in New York was over a month ago, and they could only stay for two days before flying off once more.

 

It would have been too much of an inconvenience to everyone else had they simply brought Skye along with them. Who would take care of her during rehearsals, shows and autograph sessions? They’re in a different city every week and the constant travel has taken a toll on all of them, seasoned athletes; she couldn’t imagine how it would affect a toddler, as well behaved as their daughter was.

 

And so they’d made the difficult decision of leaving her at home under the care of Natasha, who Melinda was confident would be responsible. Clint, well, Clint was really more of Skye’s playmate than he was her guardian.

 

They’ve been making do with calls and Skype chats when they’re in the right time zones and daily video updates from Natasha, more often than not accompanied by her sarcastic commentary and Clint breaking something in background.

 

Just one more show tonight and they can go home.

 

* * *

 

Contrary to the belief of many - being out on the ice isn’t cold at all, once you get moving of course. By the time they’ve reached the second to last performance of the show - one of their solo exhibitions - they’ve had three costume changes - dashing to and from the dressing rooms between acts, and honestly, she’s ready for this evening to be over already. They don’t have an autograph session scheduled after the show, but knowing Phil they’ll probably end up signing every photo, notebook, and jersey in the stadium before they make it back to their hotel room for the night.

 

Standing in the wings with Phil as they wait for the performance before theirs to finish, she can almost feel the excitement radiating off him. Skating in shows doesn’t have quite the same rush as competing - it takes the pressure off, their only aim to entertain the audience rather than perfect every element to rack up as many points from the judges and technical panel as possible.

 

He squeezes her hand, bringing it up to his lips and brushing a kiss across her knuckles, and the moment is so tender she almost forgets where they are. But then the group performance is over and the skaters are leaving the ice, skating past them, their loud cheers of encouragement both surprising and amusing her.

 

“Good luck!”

 

She turns to Phil, one eyebrow raised, but he just shrugs, and they share a soft laugh before making their way out onto the ice at the queue of the announcer.

 

“And again we welcome back onto the ice, Melinda and Phil.”

 

The arena is silent as they take their opening positions, Phil standing inches behind her, their heads bowed. They move with the music as it plays, skating in perfect synchronization, two becoming one, just like the lyrics in the bittersweet duet describe.

 

The audience cheers after each spiral, each lift, each step, each turn, until the music slowly fades out and the hit their finishing pose, him in a lunge position and her lying across his knees, the loving gazes exchanged not just put on for a show.

 

They stand together, bowing to the invisible crowd when suddenly the lights turn out. It’s almost pitch black and Melinda turns to reach for Phil, her heart racing when she can’t feel him in the darkness. She’s about to call out for him when the audience makes a collective “aaw” sound, and she turns once more to find that a single spotlight is pointing towards the entrance to the ice, and she freezes in surprise.

 

It’s Skye.

 

Her little Skye is all dolled up in a white skating dress, and wearing the skates they bought for her several months ago when they took her out onto the ice for the first time. They were a little too big at the time, and Skye had spent the whole session slipping and falling onto her bottom, giggling loudly despite the cold.

 

They’re evidently a perfect fit now, because she’s skating confidently towards Melinda, the biggest smile on her face, drawing coos from everyone in the arena.

 

“Mama,” she calls once she’s within earshot, and Melinda bends down, scooping Skye up into her arms, holding her tightly.

 

“I missed you so much,” she says, pressing a kiss to the crown of Skye’s head, unable to help the grin on her face as Skye reaches out and pats her on the cheek. “How did you get here?”

 

The only response she receives are a series of giggles, and she joins in, laughing in elation, at the feeling of holding her daughter after being separated for so long. “Let’s go find your Daddy.” Melinda tells Skye, shifting her position in her arms as she turns around. “I’m sure he’s around here som-”

 

She can barely hold back her gasp of surprise, but the audience’s would have drowned her’s out anyhow, when she sees Phil, in a second spotlight, down on one knee, a velvet box in his hands. She skates up to him, mixing her speed and slowing to a stop just in front of him, carefully shifting her hold on Skye with one hand so he can take her other.

 

“Melinda. I know you don’t like making a spectacle of things, and that we’re both naturally private people. I wanted to ask you this after our free dance at Sochi - I was already down on one knee anyway, but it didn’t feel like the right moment. We’ve been partners on the ice for more than twenty years, and it only felt proper that I should ask you to marry me out here, where our story began.”

 

She’s almost shocked into silence, and she most definitely will gently reprimand him for proposing so publicly later, though she should have expected something like this given Phil's penchant for big romantic gestures. For now, she smiles and nods, letting him slip the ring onto her finger before helping him up. The crowd is roaring around them but all that matters is their little family, and they have eyes for only one another.

 

Careful not to squash their toddler between them, Phil lifts Skye out of Melinda’s hold and sets her against his hip, smiling fondly as she immediately burrows her face into his shoulder.

 

“I love you,” Melinda tells him, closing the distance between them, resting one hand against his chest, the other softly stroking the top of Skye’s head. They didn’t say it often, sentiments of love usually expressed through actions, but he knows, and she knows, and this is a moment to say it out loud.

 

“I love you too,” Phil responds, and then he’s leaning down and pressing their lips together. Her hand moves up from his chest to cup his cheek and he can feel the cool metal of her ring against his skin. His free arm moves to the small of her back, holding her closer and they’re lost in the moment together. That is until two chubby little hands are prying them apart and they pull gently away to find Skye looking none too impressed from her position in her father’s arms.

 

“And we love you angel eyes,” they say in tandem as Phil lifts Skye up a little higher, positioning her between them so that he and Melinda can press kisses to her cheeks at the same time. There’s several flashes from cameras, and while flash photography is banned, Phil thinks he might go and ask those people for copies later, because these really are memories that should be framed to keep forever.


End file.
